Blacksheep
by StarsAreMassive
Summary: Word has reached France of the recent developments in the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black, and the Potters receive a visitor. Techy glitch now fixed, I hope.


Okay everyone, the lovely dragontrainer15 had pointed out a techy issue with this fic, so I've replaced it with a different formatted version. Hopefully it's working now!

"Sirius? Come down, please. There's someone here to see you."

Sirius stared at the door. The door that led to the hallway that led to the stairs that led to the entrance hall that Euphemia Potter was calling him from. _Someone's here to see you_. Sirius didn't think anything good was connected to that sentence.

James pushed his leg against Sirius', where they sat next to each other on the edge of the bed. It had been four days since Sirius had turned up on the Potters' doorstep, in a sorry state and looking for his best friend, people he could trust and a bed to kip in for a few days. And James, bless him from his ridiculous hair right down to his holey socks, hadn't left him to stew in what had happened for one moment since.

"What do you reckon?" Sirius whispered.

James took a thoughtful second. "I reckon mum wouldn't let any of them see you. Not the worst ones, anyway."

Meaning a cousin perhaps, or even – well, no. Not likely. Mummy won't be letting _him_ out of her clutches anytime soon.

"Come on." James not-so-gently nudged him off the bed and pushed him out the door. "Get it over and done with, we'll send them packing, then I can get back to destroying you at exploding snap."

Sirius snorted. "Destroying your own eyebrows, maybe. We've had to grow them back three times already, and that last time took a while. I don't know, Jamie," he made a show of peering at James' forehead, "they look a little thin to me."

James shot a hand to his brow and desperately started feeling up his eyebrows, trying to judge the thickness. "W-what? D'you reckon? Merlin's saggy balls, padfoot! What will Evans think if I turn up with half my eyebrows bloody missing!"

"It's an improvement?"

There was a loud smack where James pushed him into the wall.

And thanks to the miracle of his best friend, Sirius was able to walk into the Potter's living room laughing and grinning. This all stopped quite abruptly however, when he saw who was standing in front of the lavish fireplace, nearly weighed down with family photographs and James' childhood quidditch trophies.

"Who's that?" James asked, loudly and with absolutely no shame.

The man was tall, taller than Sirius and broad. He wore a thick silver dinner jacket and a waistcoat to match, over a black shirt, cuffs long and perfectly tailored, tied at the neck with a silk cravat. His boots, shining and polished were silver too, and only Sirius could rightly guess what creature they had been made out of before the trade had become illegal. He held one arm, crooked at the elbow behind his back, and studied the photos on the mantle idly, until James had caught his attention and now he stood studying the two boys with the same leisurely scrutiny.

Sirius couldn't believe it. " _Oncle Alphard."_

 _"Salut, Sirius. Tu ne vas pas me présenter?"_ He gestured to James and his parents.

"I – ah, _oui!_ Of course, _je suis désolé._ Mr and Mrs Potter," he turned to the people he considered closer than his own family and they could hear that crispness seep back into his voice. "James, can I introduce my Uncle, Alphard. He's my mo- my mother's eldest brother. Uncle, this is Euphemia and Fleamont Potter, and their son, James. They're… I'm staying with them, for a little while."

Alphard turned those inscrutable eyes, green like his sister's, on the Potters and never removed them as he brought Euphemia's hand to his mouth and muttered lowly, _"Madame,"_ and shook Fleamont's hand.

"If you will," he said in lightly accented English, "I would like the room for a moment. I must speak with my nephew privately"

Sirius heard Jamie take a breath to protest. He saw Euphemia clasp those hands tightly together which usually meant someone was in for a fight, but Fleamont anticipated them all. "I'm not quite so sure that's possible, monsieur Black. Sirius is our charge, for the moment. Surely you can speak to him with us present?" And no one missed how that wasn't really a question.

Alphard crooked a silver brow, and Sirius thought it quite likely no one had ever been so polite yet so firm against his uncle's wishes before. Yet before Alphard could respond and this whole thing could disintegrate quite quickly, Sirius intervened.

 _"Il va bien, oncle. Je leur ai dit tout."_

Alphard sighed, heavy. "Alright. In English then. But first, perhaps I will need some wine for this, no? My sister usually drives me to it."

Sirius grinned and Jamie snorted and Euphemia assured Alphard they had a lovely red if he would like some? A few minutes later, Sirius found himself seated across from his uncle, wine breathing in front of him, Jamie at his side and 'Phemie and Flea manning the armchairs that separated Alphard from Sirius. It was almost like they were flanking him.

"Be direct, Sirius," Alphard said at last. His expression brooked no nonsense. "What happened?"

"We fought. I left."

Alphard lips thinned underneath an impeccably trimmed beard. His hand gripped the stem of the wineglass tightly and he took a small mouthful, staring Sirius down all the time. When he spoke again his voice was softer, gentler, and Sirius knew this was a bad thing.

"Shall we try that again? What happened?"

Sirius traced the lip of the glass with his finger, ruffled his hair, huffed and refused to look at his uncle. "She – that is, well, I –" Sirius fidgeted. "I couldn't stay there anymore, uncle. Not with that… _madness_ and that bile they were spewing every _day_. They wanted me to –"

Sirius stopped himself and James pressed his palm into the base of his back, Reassuring. Comforting.

"To…what, Sirius?"

"To choose sides."

Alphard sighed deeply through his nose, and drained half of his glass in one. He sat back against the flush cushions of the Potter's couch, all Persian and goose-down. "Ah. _Voldemort_."

Sirius nodded. _"Oui."_

"Well, that will do it, won't it. There is nothing to de done, then."

Sirius' head snapped up and he glared at his uncle. Had he heard that right? "Did you – did you come here to convince me to go _back_?"

Alphard leaned forward, elbow on his knee and met Sirius stare with his own. "Don't be a stupid boy," he said, bluntly. "You know that I am more aware than anyone that there is no ' _going back'_."

Alphard Black. Support of muggle rights. Member of the exclusive Disinherited and Disowned Blacks Club. For a moment Sirius felt ashamed. This was the man that taught him it was okay to disobey, to be mischievous and to question whatever you heard. This was the man who was his friend, uncle and very near his father growing up. This was the man who planted the seeds Jamie, Peter and Remus would help to flourish at Hogwarts.

"Sirius, _regarde moi_." Sirius looked up and saw that glimmer of softness in his uncle's eyes that he saw when he was younger. " _Je suis venu pour vous demander si vous étiez bien. Je suis venu voir si vous étiez en sécurité_."

Sirius huffed an embarrassed laugh and Alphard leaned back with a half-smile on his lips. "Yeah. Yeah I'm fine," he said. "I promise. The Potters are great," he gestured weakly to Euphemia and Fleamont.

Alphard nodded. "I also came," he continued in English, "to do what I should have done years ago. You were always better than them, Sirius. Always more like me."

Careful looks fell over the faces of the Potters and Sirius wondered if Alphard could really mean what he thought he meant.

"Uncle?"

"You are coming back to France. You will come and live with me. You can finish your schooling at Beauxbatons and after that, well. You can do whatever you want to do. I shan't force your hand like them."

That was where the Potters' peace ended. Fleamont shot upright in his chair and Euphemia clutched the armrests, both gasping and exclaiming. James kept one hand on Sirius' back still but let the other one flap wildly about. " _Oi!"_

"Monsieur Black, _really –_ "

"'Phemie!" Flea looked his wife, desperate, begging. " _Do_ something!"

"I dunno who you think you are, you can't just come swanning in 'ere –"

"You may be his uncle but he is fine right where he is –"

Fleamont nodded furiously.

"- _demanding_ that Sirius leaves with you. I don't care if you _are_ some rich French uncle –"

"James, hush! I understand that you're his family but there's really no need –"

"He's bloody well staying _here_! And no fancy French chateau or ruddy vineyard is saying otherwise. So you can just take your shiny jacket and leave _right_ now."

"James!" And this time Euphemia Potter brooked no argument. "I think what my son is trying to say," she proceeded calmly once she was sure James would hold his silence. "Is that Sirius is settled here. He only has two more years left of school. It would be silly to uproot him now when we are perfectly happy to have him here. Besides, he has all his friends at school, and I'm fairly certain he'd be loath to leave them. I think he deserves to keep them after everything, don't you?"

To the untrained eye Alphard black looked unperturbed by the onslaught, but Sirius saw that perplexed crinkle in his brow and the irritated tick in his jaw even if his eyes did show a little amusement. His uncle was warring with himself and Sirius waited to see which side he would let win.

"This would be Peter, yes? And… _Remus_?" He asked at length. Sirius nodded. "And are they all as…assertive as this one?" He gestured almost lazily to James who didn't even blush as he answered for himself.

"I'd like to see you talk your way around Remus if you tried to take Sirius away. And Peter's ace and concealing spells."

"Are you trying to tell me, monsieur Potter, that you would hide my own nephew from me if I were to take him back to France?"

"Or we'll just hide you."

"James! One more word and you are _grounded!_ " Euphemia barked, although it would have been far more effected if Fleamont hadn't been smirking like a madman.

Alphard took a long, hard look at James, even when he addressed Sirius. _"Qu'est-ce que tu penses, Sirius?"_

Sirius didn't even try to fight the grin that swallowed his face. He chuckled and nudged James with his shoulder. " _Je pense que je veux rester._ _Je suis désolé. Je vous remercie de l'offre, mais…"_

"But perhaps you are home already?"

Sirius nodded and leant into the arms James slung around his shoulder. "I love France. And I'd love to come visit you again, now that…mother can't forbid me anymore."

"You are welcome anytime. I think perhaps you will want to spend Christmas here, but I can visit you, and I will expect you at Easter." Alphard rose to his feet. "You will write. You will keep me informed of _everything_. Your school will be informed that any correspondence is to be forwarded to me, and a copy for the Potters, of course. I will send you a monthly allowance for your school things and a little more for you and your friends." He turned to Fleamont. "I will also send you a stipend for keeping him every month."

Euphemia frowned. "That's really not nec-"

"On _this_ , madame," Alphard cut her off firmly, "I will tolerate no opposition. _Sirius est_ mon _neveu_ , and I will support him." He turned back to Sirius. "And you _will_ sign the papers I bring for you at Christmas."

"What pa-"

"You shall see."

Alphard was now standing between Sirius and the entrance hall, and Sirius, recognising the cue, rose to walk him out. Only Fleamont's desperate lurch for James' wrist stopped his best friend from following. Alphard stopped them at the doorway.

"I must thank you," he said to the rather bewildered family still seated. "For what you are doing for my nephew. There are few in my acquaintance who would do the same. I will be in touch with you again." And with that, he ushered Sirius from the room with a steady hand on his shoulder.

Sirius picked his thick grey greatcoat – the same one he'd had since Sirius was a boy - down from the coat rack and helped Alphard put it on. For a moment, uncle and nephew only looked at each other, taking in how each had changed in the years since they'd last seen each other. Truly, letters just weren't the same.

"Everyone says you look like Orion," Alphard said, softly. "But I have never seen Orion laugh the way you did when you came in the room with the Potter boy."

Sirius smirked, hearing what his uncle wasn't saying. "Well lucky for you, you'd never tell you and I were related. Not a spec of black left in your hair now, is there?"

Alphard grunted and struck Sirius' knees with the cane he pulled from inside the great coat. Long, slender and silver, it could pack a punch. "I see this whole event has done nothing to improve your insolence."

He grinned, wolfishly. "Never."

Alphard mirrored him. " _Bien_."

One of his great hands came to rest on Sirius' shoulder and the other cupped the side of his neck. "You will be happy here?"

Sirius nodded. "I promise. I'll write to you soon, yeah?"

" _Oui_. Very soon. And I will be seeing you at Christmas." He leant in and pressed a firm kiss to both cheeks and Sirius fought the hitch in his breath because how long had it been since someone in his family had shown him such simple affection?

"I will not lie, Sirius," he said as he stepped out the front door and Sirius spied the gleaming, sleek black car that chauffeured Alphard around whenever he visited. His mother had hated it, muggle as it was, and refused to let him bring it anywhere near Grimmauld Place. "I am glad this has happened. I am glad you are away from her."

And for the first time since he'd turned up on the Potter's doorstep, Sirius though that yeah, maybe he was, too.

Translations:

 _Salut, Sirius. Tu ne vas pas me présenter?_ Hello, Sirius. Won't you introduce me?

J _e suis désolé._ I'm sorry.

 _Il va bien, oncle. Je leur ai dit tout._ It's alright, uncle. I told them everything.

 _Je suis venu pour vous demander si vous étiez bien. Je suis venu voir si vous étiez en sécurité_. I came to ask if you were alright. I came to see if you were safe.

 _Qu'est-ce que tu penses, Sirius?_ What do you think, Sirius?

 _Je pense que je veux rester._ _Je suis désolé. Je vous remercie de l'offre, mais…_ I think I'd like to stay. I'm sorry. I appreciate the offer, but…


End file.
